


Amethyst

by Stegosaur



Series: Gems of the Night [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Chastity Device, Crossdressing, M/M, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegosaur/pseuds/Stegosaur
Summary: Known by many names except his own, D is a dangerous man who seeks one thing: a family of his own creation, no matter the cost.





	1. Amethyst, part I

                “Now then, onto new business…”  The crocodilian on the monitor shuffled some papers around, pulling out a purple binder with a golden ‘D’ embossed on its cover.  “I see some interesting line items here.  One for overnight services of your sibling, Raphaela.  Another for a suit, bespoke, for previously unlisted measurements.  Another item for security fees…all of them written off, and several more added today.  You’re not one to post losses, Leonardo.”  The olive turtle grinned, swirling the fine wine around his glass before taking a sip, the sweet liquid coating his tongue and throat with its delicate flavors.  “As your accountant and collaborator, I would like some additional information before I can justify these expenses.”

                “Luca, they’re for my newest creation.  I don’t need any more justification than that, now do I?”  The croc frowned, pinching the bridge of his long snout in exasperation.  “Quit fretting.  If it really concerns you that much, deduct them from my personal account.  I’ve more than enough funds to cover it, and it’s a private creation anyhow.”  He leaned back in his chair and eyeballed the monitor for any response from the croc, his neck bristling as he saw that all-too-familiar furred paw grab Luca’s shoulder.  “Ah, I didn’t see you there, Yoshi-san.  My sincerest apologies.”  The display was silent, the croc having muted himself as something private was discussed between them, the owner of that furred paw one of only two men in existence to give him any sort of pause, the other being the man’s brother.  The Yoshi clan was the premiere Yakuza to deal with for smuggling and trafficking people, and while he may be the American poster boy for their organization abroad, even he knew better than to rise above his station in their organization.  The monitor buzzed alive with sound once again, the hand retreating from view as the croc adjusted his reading glasses.

                “I understand you have a new sibling, Leonardo.  I’ve been authorized to write down these losses on behalf of the company, provided you can justify them against this new sibling of yours.”  The turtle smiled broadly, setting his glass down on the desk and sitting up straight, fingers folding over themselves eagerly.

                “But of course, Luca.  Let me tell you all about Leola…”

* * *

                Donatello fished his hands down Ruby’s tight skirt, fingers teasing at her slit and tugging at its lips.  “How was Topaz, hmm?  Did you do as I asked?”  The turtle was stiff in his grasp, yet infinitely malleable by words and actions alone, his prize to do with as he pleased.  Ruby gave a slow nod, moaning as those fingers stroked against their sensitive flesh, pent up with need.  “Good.  You do want us to be a family again, don’t you?”  Another nod from the turtle acknowledged the perverted idea, Ruby squeaking as Donatello’s other hand slid up their halter top, fabric bunching over it as the hand slowly cupped their chin.  “I knew you would.  You love making me happy, don’t you Raphaela?”  Ruby gasped sharply as those fingers plunged into their slit, the others pressing past their lips.  “Yes you do.  You’ve done so much for me, and yet you never stop.  You protected me after our parents died, you worked hard to provide for me when I want to college…” Donatello’s fingertips brushed over the chastity cage nestled inside Ruby’s slit, fondling the locked cock within.  “And I gave you what you wanted in return, didn’t I?  Control, security, safety…”  Ruby’s knees buckled, Donatello catching them in his firm grasp and nibbling at their neck.  “Tell me, Raphaela, have I ever hurt you?”  They shook their head, whimpering at the sexual torment from their brother.  “Have I ever forced you to do something you didn’t want to?”  Ruby squeezed back tears as those fingers continued invading him, pushing back unwanted memories as he shook his head.  “Of course not.  You wanted all of this, didn’t you?”  Donatello slowly removed his fingers from Ruby’s flesh and clothing, giving them a firm shove to the floor.  “You pathetic whore.  I give you _everything_ you ever wanted, and you don’t even do as I ask.”

                Ruby choked back a sob, shaking their head hastily.  “I did!  I swear to you I did, D.  I went there, b-but he wouldn’t let me in, and you said to be discrete, and-“.  Donatello stepped forward and kicked Ruby in the plastron, snarling angrily.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry D, please, I didn’t mean to hurt you, really!”

                “Yet you did, by deliberately trying to sabotage our _family_ , Raphaela.”  Ruby began hyperventilating at the violent outburst, raising her arms in defense as Donatello towered over her, only to be greeted by warm, loving arms wrapped around his head, pulling him into Donatello’s lap as he sat beside her on the floor.  “Shh, shh.  It’s alright.  You’re alright, aren’t you Raphaela?”  She nodded meekly as Donatello kissed her forehead, fingers stroking her cheek.  “You had another nightmare.  Is everything alright?”  Raphaela’s head swam in confusion, shaking her head violently as she gripped Donatello’s arms tight.

                “N-no, I’m so sorry Donatello.  I…I went to see Leola’s brother, and I couldn’t get in.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”  Raphaela apologized profusely, the olive turtle cooing softly at his distraught sister.  “A-and I was going to tell you, a-and I guess I fell and hit my head, and I had this horrible nightmare-“  Donatello pressed his lips over Ruby’s, silencing the quivering turtle’s protests and apologies with that firm, reassuring tenderness he knew she had been trained to crave.

                “It’s okay, Raphaela.  Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it just means it will take longer for our family to reunite.  I know you did your best, my sweet Raphaela.”  Donatello glanced up at the time as he cradled the smaller turtle, embracing them just long enough to reinforce this behavior and delusion.  “Leola will be here soon.  Would you like to show them our family’s love for each other?”  Ruby nodded meekly, smiling brokenly up at Donatello.  “That’s my little sister.  Go clean up, and take good care of them tonight, won’t you?  I’m sure Leola will love your company, as will his little brother, Mike.”  Ruby slowly picked herself up and gave a respectful curtsy, hastily dashing down the hallway toward her bedroom.  Donatello stood upright and dusted his suit off, grabbing a disinfectant wipe for his hands and scrubbing them clean.  He may have given Leola the night off, but he’d be damned if he left his new acquisition unsupervised right now, and Ruby was just broken enough to be trustworthy as a custodian, though little else.  He grabbed a blue binder off his desk and began thumbing through it: Leola’s full family history, government details and IDs, employment history, details so thorough an encyclopedia would blush.  He turned to the second marked tab in the thick binder of papers, smirking at the composite photo of the presumed end result, his cock swelling at the image and its associated fantasy.  “I always did want another sister…”

* * *

                Leonardo sent the binder to Luca via the secure terminal, the croc looking it over in great detail.  “This is quite the high aspiration, Leonardo, even for you.  Ruby was one thing, but this Sapphire project of yours seems rather expensive for a single acquisition.”  Leonardo smiled broadly as he poured himself some more wine, corking the bottle before placing it back in his desk amongst a nest of other liquors, a flat light illuminating them from beneath.  “Hormone replacement therapy, body modifications, extensive wardrobe customizations…”

                “You mean estrogen, piercings, and some slutty outfits?  Come on now, it’s the same I’ve been giving Raphaela for years now.  Why the sudden interest, Luca?  Getting a little jealous of my growing family?”  The croc let out a flustered cough, flipping through some more pages.  “Besides, that’s just part one, the prep work.  Part two, is the real treat.”  The croc stopped, setting the tablet down and removing his glasses, staring back at the camera in wonder.  “Sapphire has a brother.  5’7”, just needs one good push and he’ll be the finest sculpting clay I’ve ever worked with.  He’s who I’m really after.”  Leonardo tapped a button on his tablet, Mike’s headshot filling the croc’s screen and eliciting an impressed whisper.

                “He looks like a child.”  The croc husked, tablet quivering in his fingers slightly.  “You’re a monster.”  Leonardo took a sip of his wine, signing off the secure session without another word, glancing down at Ruby nursing on his erect length, patting her head rewardingly as he dumped a load down her eager throat.

                “I know.  It’s what I do best.”


	2. Amethyst, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello describes his method for acquiring his workers to a forger on an important assignment.

                Donatello swirled the wine around its glass as he leafed through the dossier in his lap, eyes glancing at the emptied wallet contents neatly arranged on his desk for review.  Credit cards, debit cards, insurance documents, government IDs, some cash, everything from Leola’s wallet had been dumped, inventoried, and duplicated before returning his wallet to him, giving his forger enough time to make the required adjustments.  The olive turtle sipped at the wine and turned the page, his glance not leaving the text before him as he addressed the spectacled canine carefully altering some documents nearby.  “Do you know how you enslave someone, Ruphus?”  The old dog didn’t answer, a jeweler’s knife prying up the hologram from the ID card and separating it carefully, setting it aside on a work area and exposing the text beneath.  “It’s remarkably easy, you know, assuming you lack any sort of empathy for the victim.”

                “I’ve seen your work, Descartes.  You’re remarkably skilled for a psychopathic reprobate.”  The old mutt quipped, carefully scraping away the last name from the card with the knife, making sure to only remove the ink and not damage the card itself.  Satisfied, his fingers plucked a fine brush from its stand, dipping its end in black ink and outlining the desired letters.  “I’ll entertain you, my boy.  How do you enslave this fetching young lad I’m working on?”  Donatello churred with pride, carefully setting his glass down on the desk and flipping to a medical report, Leola’s name printed neatly at the top.

                “First, you need leverage…”

* * *

                _…then you slowly begin the push of control._

Donatello cupped Leola’s cheeks in his hands, those thick, olive-colored fingers making the flesh dimple beneath them.  “There’s my brother.  Have you been sleeping well?”  The smaller turtle nodded meekly as Donatello looked over his face and visible skin, turning Leola’s head to and fro for closer examination.  “I see.  No blemishes, pimples, or zits.  How’s your anxiety level?  Feeling more confident in your role?”  Donatello smiled reassuringly, Leola giving another, meek nod.  “Good.  Well, disrobe for me and let us have a look at you, see how you’re healing down there.”  Leola shucked off the suit jacket and hung it on a nearby hook, carefully unbuttoning his new shirt and pants before laying them over each other on the back of a chair, making sure they won’t wrinkle too badly in the process.  The final item were the tight briefs Donatello had placed on him during his nap, the sweet smell of soap billowing forth into the air as he exposed himself.  Donatello said nothing as he gripped Leola’s pierced cock, carefully inspecting the wound and gauze.  Healing had already begun, but it would be weeks yet before they could continue down that specific path.  “Very nice.  I love that you follow my directions so precisely, Leola.”

                _Their identity is important to them, something they’ll guard with their life.  This is your greatest asset to exploit against them._

“Thanks, Donatello.  It still aches, but I’m getting used to it, slowly but surely.  Baths help.”  Donatello gently fondled it before pressing his fingers into Leola’s slit, the gauze within fresh and clean, though Leola’s moan made it clear his sensitivity in general had increased somewhat since the procedure, likely pent up frustration.  “D-donatello, stop…”  The olive turtle didn’t comply, pushing his fingers in deeper and stroking the flesh within, Leo slowly pulling away.

                “I need to check you thoroughly, Leola.  As your employer, as your _brother_ , I need to make sure you’re healthy.”  Leo pulled away again, Donatello’s fingers sleeping free.  “You did agree to work for me, right?  So come here, and let me inspect you properly.”  Leo stood between him and the clothes nearby, grabbing his arms nervously.

                _They’ll protest.  They’ll whine.  Of course, if you already have some dirt on them, you can just use that as blackmail for even more.  It’s a vicious cycle, really._

“I’m just not used to this sort of treatment, Donatello.”  Leo looked at the floor, Donatello striding over to him.  Leo knew what he really was to Donatello, despite the lies forced down his throat: a whore, plain and simple, slowly being sculpted to service whoever Donatello deemed necessary.  Even with that painful acknowledgement, however, he still couldn’t help but feel violated by the forced nudity.  Those firm hands grabbed his shoulders and gave them a tender squeeze, Donatello smiling sweetly.

                “It’s okay.  We’ll drop the agreement, if this makes you uncomfortable.”  Leo blinked a few times, looking up at Donatello hopefully.  “Ah, I should clarify.  I said I’d drop the agreement, not the debt.  You’d still have to find a way to pay me back.”  Leo sighed outwardly and nodded, the leash pulling tight again, though Donatello just had to give it a nice, firm tug to make sure the turtle knew his place.  He reached into his pocket and produced his cell phone, tapping through menus with one hand as he circled around Leo to his rear, that other hand keeping a firm grip.  “I wonder how much money I could make selling these videos?”  Donatello pressed play on a clip of Leo getting his freshly-pierced cock milked, screaming his new name and climaxing all over his plastron and thighs.  The color drained from his face, the message screamingly clear as his shoulders slumped forward, defeated.  Donatello placed the phone back in his pocket and groped at Leola’s slit once again, teasing its edges.  “There we go.  I’m glad you understand the nuances of our arrangement, my dear sibling.  Lest our little brother find out about your proclivities…”  Leo swallowed hard at the deliberate choice of determiner, pushing Donatello’s hand away.

                “He’s my brother, not yours…Sir.”  Donatello raised a brow in amusement at the choreographed defiance, patting Leola’s rear with the palm of his hand.

                “My apologies, you’re absolutely right.”  The olive turtle carefully directed Leola down a hallway while keeping them fully nude, their clothes left behind in the greeting area from the private garage.  The maze was simple enough to navigate, and before long they were back in the blue room he’d carefully built for Sapphire’s use, locking the door behind them once Leola was tucked inside.  “Bend over the bed for me, would you dear?”  The effeminate pronoun was equally deliberate, Leola complying by hesitantly approaching the bed and laying over its edge, his plastron wrinkling the satin blue sheets beneath.  Donatello used this chance to grab a simple blue box with a Sapphire gemstone set in its front in place of a lock, setting it down beside Leola’s rump and lifting its lid.  An assortment of items for Leola were inside, though the other turtle was still fully in the dark as to the extent of Donatello’s plans.

                _Of course, if you truly want to enslave someone, their original identity must not merely be stripped, but destroyed entirely.  They must voluntarily embrace the persona you craft for them, through any means necessary._

                Donatello pulled out a pastel blue choker with white lace, carefully buckling it around Leola’s neck with a churr.  “Hold still for me, Leola.”  The turtle had little choice but to comply given their positioning, but Donatello made sure there would be no protest by delicately guiding Leola’s arms over their shell and behind their back, a simple, blue ribbon securing them together in a tight knot.  Easily escapable by someone of Leola’s expertise and strength, but it was more to send the message of non-resistance to the turtle than to be practical.  Every movement Donatello made was slow and methodical, placating Leola for the items to be added, such as the lace blue garter slid up Leola’s legs.  “Much better.”  Leola squirmed nervously at the precarious positioning, Donatello gently knocking their ankles apart until they fell plastron-first onto the bed, the soft mattress and sheets solely supporting their weight, ass up in the air as the struggled for footing on the floor.  Donatello unbuckled his trousers and let them slide to the floor, plucking a bottle of lubricant from the chest.  “I’m pleased that your STI tests came back negative, Leola.  You’ve been a good sister.”  Leola squirmed more at that, though their position left them unable to articulate a response, something Donatello had clearly planned for.

                _Ideally, you want to prevent protesting altogether.  That way, you can confidently argue later that they never disagreed.  Of course, gagging doesn’t work well, since that provides an obstacle, but kissing? Chest down on a bed? Face in a pillow while they’re plowed?  You’d be amazed at how that tricks their brain…_

Donatello splashed some lube on his fingers and began thoroughly coating his length, slowly inserting his slickened fingers into Leola’s ass to loosen them up.  “Don’t clench.  Remember what I taught you last time, okay?  Relax, and enjoy.  I’m the one doing all the work this time, Leola.  Let your brother handle things.”  His smile was one of perversion, Leola’s head scraping against the sheets as they struggled to protest or withdraw consent, their toes slipping on the smooth carpet.  Donatello pressed the tip of his length against Leola’s anus, slowly and steadily pushing into the virgin hole with a delighted hiss as the flesh gave way, the turtle beneath him whimpering and crying into the sheets.  He paid it no mind, as the first time was the hardest for everyone, after all.  Just as Leola cries now, so did Raphaela, so did countless others before.

                So did he, one time.

                Donatello hilted fully inside Leola’s ass with a delightful churr, remembering the particular positioning of her prostate from his initial exploration.  He grinned as he pulled back somewhat and lined up for his first shot, driving his entire length back into Leola directly towards the organ there, the turtle’s cries subsiding briefly with a moan as the spot was brushed, but not pushed.  He adjusted himself again as he began building a rhythm, hands gripping Leola’s hips and holding her tight as he fucked that virgin hole into submission.  “See? It feels nice, doesn’t it?”  He made sure to hit Leola’s prostate as often as he could, given the blind entry and rigidity of his length inside, one of his hands wandering south to find her increasingly hard cock and give it a firm grip, the remaining lube slickening it just enough to stimulate it.  “I knew it.  You’re enjoying having your big brother pound that tight hole of yours, little sis.”

                “I-I’m not…nggh…”  Leo stammered, the ribbon around his wrists loosening with his struggles, a fact Donatello picked up on and rectified immediately by climbing atop his shell and pinning him to the bed, thigh muscles bulging as they bore the brunt of the weight and thrusting, Leo having no real choice but to either take the sexual assault, or throw Donatello off entirely, and he knew what the latter would ultimately entail.  “I-I’m not your s-sister, Donatello.”  Donatello responded by moving his hands to force Leola’s face into the sheets, increasing their rhythm and focusing solely on their own pleasure instead, letting Leola gasp for air against the thick fabric.

                “Of course you are.  Men don’t get pounded in the ass, or wear these frilly clothes.  You’re my little sister, Leola.”  He hissed, jerking Leo’s head back and slamming it into the bed again.  “Say it.”  Leo shook his head in response, the heat of the moment giving Donatello an excuse to lose himself.  “SAY IT!”  He slammed Leo’s head into the bed again and again with each repetition, his climax building as he forced his will upon the slut-in-training.  Donatello stopped after a few slams, the mattress preventing any permanent damage, though it no doubt left Leo bruised and disoriented, and hopefully more pliable.  He pulled himself free of Leo’s tight ass and panted for air, slapping her ass cheek with an open palm as he applied more lube with his other.  “Turn over.  On your shell, little sis.”  The hesitation did not go unnoticed and was swiftly punished with another slap of her ass.  “Turn over, Leola, big brother isn’t done yet.”

                _You make them want it, or think they wanted it.  Even an act as simple as changing position can be used to reinforce the notion they asked for this.  A rapist only focuses on climax, they go straight for orgasm no matter how they started, but a partner?  Partners work together, consent together.  A rapist isn’t going to ask you to bend over a bed, or lift your ass.  A partner, though?  That’s perfectly normal._

Leola slowly rolled over on the bed, choking back sobs as tears streamed down their cheeks, a sight that would cripple most erections.  Not Donatello, though, as he slowly pulled Leola towards the edge of the bed and rolled her back up on her shell, pulling her legs over his shoulders and angling her for ease of re-entry.  “Good girl.”  He pushed back in without warning, aiming once again for her p-spot in the process and eyeballing the reaction of her pierced cock, grinning as it was still semi-erect.  He gripped it with the slickened hand and pumped it gently, coaxing it to full arousal.  “See?  You love this, Leola.  You love being my little sister, even your body loves it.”  He cooed down to the other turtle as his thrusts turned faster and harder with more gaps between them, a dribble of pre leaking from both of their shafts as a report was built, however forced.  Donatello used the lube to coax Leola to full erection, his thumb brushing delicately across the tip and piercing, making her gasp with pleasure even as her tears continued.  “Who is your big brother, Leola?”  The question dripped with venomous comfort, Leo’s body shaking with disgust at the prospect of answering.  “Come on, don’t hurt me like this.  I just want to make you happy, Leola.  You want to make your big brother Donatello happy too, right?”  Leola nodded with a choked sob, Donatello rewarding the gesture with more enthusiasm in his control of her length.  “Why am I?”

                “D-donatello.”  Leola whispered, hushed, Donatello’s rhythm slowing as he edged himself to focus on his sister.

                “Good.  Who are you?”  The olive turtle smiled sweetly, Leola’s eyes wrenched shut as she tried to resist the pleasurable masturbation and intercourse.

                “L-Leola…”  The correct answer was rewarded again, this time with more lube drizzled onto her member, Donatello adding some to his as well as he slowly stroked his length inside her clenching ring.

                “Leola’s my sister’s name.  Are you my sister, then?”  Donatello realized his mistaken phrasing and caught himself quickly, stroking Leola faster.  “Admit it.  Admit you like being my little sister.”  Leo resisted the order, though Donatello knew what buttons to press to elicit an answer.  “Go on, don’t be shy.  Just tell me the truth.”  Leo gripped the sheets and began to moan as his own climax approached, Donatello’s hand stroking at a fever pitch while he struggled with his own, growing need.  “Who are you, Leola?”  The turtle gasped and groaned, his length spurting ropes of seed onto his chest as his climax burst forth, though Donatello’s grip didn’t slacken even slightly.  “You love this.  Admit it to me, for me.”  The intense pleasure gave way to a sensory overload as his hyper-sensitive cock was stroked just as furiously as before, the turtle tensing up sharply against Donatello’s length.

                “S-stop!  I-I came!”  Donatello leaned forward, applying more pressure on Leola’s legs as he readied himself for his own climax, otherwise remaining silent as he started hammering Leola’s prostate again needlessly, jerking off the fellow turtle as if he’d not came yet.  “Ah!  Hah!  D-Donatello, p-please stop!”  Donatello did no such thing, forcing Leola to curl up tighter against him as he placed more and more weight behind her legs, her knees pressing precariously close to her sternum and starting to make breathing even more difficult.  “Stop it big brother!”  The remark still felt forced, but pushed Donatello dangerously close to the edge of his own orgasm.

                _Then you make them admit it.  Admit they’re yours, admit their love, their passion for you.  Even if it violates the core of their being, you make it so goddamn pleasurable to give in to the lust, the hedonism of it all._

                Donatello gritted his teeth, sucking air through them as he let himself loose on Leola’s body in full, releasing her cock to grab both her legs, leaning himself back somewhat and pulling her with him.  “Yeah, you’re so tight for big brother.”  He moaned loudly, literally pounding Leola with all his might.  “Tell me you love me.”

                Leo gripped the sheets as he continued to be fucked, his body rocking with each thrust.  “I love you!”  He husked back, the feeling of sex crossing over into full-on amazing, his original protesting and reservations fading, temporarily, to the back of his mind.  Donatello rocked both of them back and forth as he let himself go, the force actually bucking Leo’s crotch up and out over his chest at times.  Donatello suddenly changed position again, forcing himself between Leo’s legs to grip at his cheeks, lips pressing against his own in a kiss.  The position itself was uncomfortable, his legs high in the air behind Donatello, arms pinned under his shell, those lacey garters glaring back at him, and yet nothing really mattered as his spunk dried on his plastron.

                Donatello broke the kiss but maintained his rhythm, lips dripping with saliva.  “I love you, sis.”  The olive turtle resumed the kiss for a scant second or two before leaning down and licking at Leola’s neck, teeth sinking in above the choker and applying a hickey as his cock finally spasmed, dumping a full load into Leola’s ass, christening it as his property in the process.  He tensed sharply atop his sister as his body emptied out inside of her, teeth disengaging from her neck as he gasped for air, beads of sweat coalescing on his skin.  He hesitated for a few moments, enjoying his post-coital bliss and drinking it in before slowly, carefully pulling his length free, wiping it clean on the inside of Leola’s legs.  “Gods you’re hot.”  His eyes were glassy, breath hot and husky, knees wobbly, and he imagined Leola’s were in even worse shape after her virgin experience.  The other turtle said nothing, just panted in a relaxed position on the bed, cum leaking from their thoroughly-used ass.  Donatello smirked at the sight, giving it a pat.  “Come on, let’s go shower off.  Bet Mike never scrubs your shell, does he?”  The tone was remarkably candid, sex being one of the few things that could fully disarm his usual controlling tendencies, but only after exerting it so intensely during the act itself.  Leo nodded weakly and rolled onto his stomach, Donatello tugging the ribbon off with a weak flick of his wrist.

                “N-no, he…he doesn’t.”  Leo pulled himself up with a pant and stared at the bathroom door longingly, forgetting about the dainty lace garments on his limbs.  The sex, he had to admit, was awesome, even if he didn’t explicitly consent to it.  Which, thinking back on it, didn’t really matter, he supposed, seeing as how his new job was a whore anyway.  “H-hey, Donatello?”  The olive turtle responded with a grunt, stepping gradually out of his clothes as he trudged to the doorway.  “This whole sister thing…you know I’m a guy, right?”  Donatello paused, hiding his expression from Leo.

                “Of course I do.  I just jerked you off, didn’t I?”  Leo nodded in agreement before following close behind him, Donatello turning on the lights to the spacious en suite bathroom.  “Let’s get you cleaned up, Leola.”

                _And you never, ever, let them know your true intentions._

* * *

                The old dog re-applied the hologram on the license card with expert precision, sealing it with the identical adhesive brand used by the DMV itself.  He checked it carefully in the light, inspecting it for any flaws.  “Not going to share your bathroom escapades, Descartes?”  Donatello chuckled softly, shaking his head.  “I suppose not.  Always was your private spot, as it were.  Anyway, the job is finished.”  He slipped the card into a pastel blue opera wallet with gold trim, an assortment of duplicated and edited cards within.  Donatello plucked the wallet from the dog when he was finished, the canine packing up his forging tools and kits into a single duffel bag, zipping it all closed.  “When do I meet her, anyway?”  As if on cue, Leola burst through the open doorway, dressed neatly in the same suit he arrived in, Donatello whistling as he gave her a look over.

                “Very nice, my dear.  Here, I got you a present.”  The canine remained silent as Donatello handed over the wallet, Leola taking it hesitantly and looking it over, opening it with a quality clacking noise.  “Everything is there, along with your stipend for the next two days.  You’re getting another day off for your fantastic performance today.”  The olive turtle beamed with pride, Leola withdrawing one of the cards and blushing fiercely as he put it hastily away, clasping it closed.  “Something wrong?”

                “N-no! No, it’s, ah, it’s very nice.  Thank you, Donatello.”  The mutt showed himself out without a word, Leola placing the wallet in his jacket’s interior breast pocket with that flush hot on his cheeks.  “So, eight o’clock on Wednesday, then?”  Donatello nodded, placing a comforting grasp on Leola’s shoulder and escorting her to the car, hiding his amusement at her embarrassment over the altered contents of the wallet, and recollecting his earlier tale to the forger.

                _They must voluntarily embrace the persona you craft for them, through any means necessary._

**Author's Note:**

> For those confused about the names, re-read Sapphire, part IV. D/Donatello discloses or hints at several of his aliases towards the end, including the sculptor Donatello, the polymath Leonardo DaVinci, and the philosopher Descartes.


End file.
